


Big Ass Goal

by MiaSchwarz



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: I cleaned up my computer and found this and took it here, Just for the lulz, Story without sense, Wild Hockey, lame titel included
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-20 03:04:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16547627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiaSchwarz/pseuds/MiaSchwarz
Summary: This is a fiction about OMG CheckPlease! withJack Zimmermann as the main character and ithas the most unsubtle titel evar ... What do youthink will happen?





	Big Ass Goal

Big Ass Goal

To be true, it was a real mess, this particular game and Jack Zimmermann felt like he was in the middle of everything. It didn't matter how smart and well practiced the Falconers played, it always ended up in a pile of limps, sticks, rising confusion and eventually irritation.

When Jack finally saw a chance to break through the tough defense, he zipped straight in front of the opposing goal for a good position to receive a successful shot. In fact the young Canadian wasn't so much as zipping, but criss-crossing along through swiveling opponents and flying sticks. It was a bumpy ride, Jack had to admit while he struggled to maintain their practiced moves and his teammates hurried around him. The other team was a bundle of movements and although the two defensemen were rather on the smaller side, they made it up with agility and mind blurring swirls.

The whole play was a mix of speed, spins, a tumbling puck and a whole ice-ring full of grown men trying to gain the upper hand of everything somehow. At some point, Tater of all people finally got a solid hold of the puck and if Jack had time to muse about it, he and his team instantly clicked nicely into the routine, they had trained for. He felt a hint of hope, that they could now finally end this crazy mess and make a nice, solid play eventually.

On the other hand, a game against another team was different than training at home. As soon as their opponents mentioned the new situation, Jack could swear everything became even more hurried and chaotic. Tater had to move backwards to avoid direct confrontation and get a better shot at Jack. The young Canadian moved accordingly, so he wouldn't loose the connection to his teammate. Or at least Jack tried, because first he bumped into another defensemen, hard, and somehow lost his left glove. The impact made him lose sight of the puck and his teammates, so he tried to spin out of the bundle of players, only to trip over something or maybe someone.

Jack may have gotten his composure back, with some flailing and struggling. But somebody knocked into him from behind and where the heck did Marty suddenly come from? The question didn't matter, although Jack would still like to know, what his teammate was doing without stick and helmet crawling over the ice in front of the opposite goal pulling at the blade of an opponent defenseman. Jack had no time for pondering though or anything at all but tumbling over his crouching teammate and preparing for the coming impact as best as possible. He also lost his helmet during that stunt, but refused to let go of his stick. So Jack landed rather unflattering on his front and got the air knocked out of his lungs with a hard push.

Nothing serious, the young athlete summed up internally while catching back his breath and despite the struggles of several players, the game was still going on. Jack couldn't find Tater or the puck and everybody was busy swirling around him, when there was suddenly the horn for a goal and the audience went nuts. Did they get a goal? What was going on? And why was everyone laughing at him and cheering him and bumping his butt? Marty even pinched his butt. Through all the padding. Hard. Jack had so many questions, but he gathered, they made the final lead eventually and that was good enough for him in the end. But how? It was weird, because Jack was so sure he wasn't responsible for their surprising lead, as far as lying flat on the ice and facing away from the goal was any indication.

But thankfully the jumbotron helped clearing that confusion by an extensive loop of the goal in question. Jack felt stupid seeing his struggle close up in high resolution on the big screen. And of course it had to be a goal like this. Right when Jack went flat down on the ice, Tater had simultaneously send the puck rocketing in his direction. And better like any All Star Play could show Jack landed face first on the ice and the puck came hurdling in perfect sinc towards him, bumped on his butt and went flying nicely straight into the other team's goal. It was a beautiful shot, nobody had a chance to do anything against it, the crowd went crazy, the goaltender went berserk, everybody was screaming and Jack was still searching for his lost glove.

Maybe, just maybe there wouldn't be a big fuss about how he assisted in this goal when he acted like it was nothing, Jack thought. And the game went on with the same weird mess like from the beginning, but the Falconers could save their slim advantage. Privately Jack was smart enough to know that at least Tater wouldn't shut up about his butt-goal for the near future. The game was still in intermission and there was a good struggle going on between the two teams when Jack decided, he was too old for fighting, gave up for the lost glove and slowly went for the bench to get another set of equipment. The game was still far from over, so he should keep up.

Despite his better knowledge, he still hoped that the fight was overshadowing his literal butt-move. But when Jack strolled to the bench and saw the line of big grins on his stupid teammates faces he knew he was never going to live it down. His famous luck was nothing against the unrestrained craziness of his best friends though. He almost forgot the gang from Samwell was attending this special game and of course not only did the beer sales go up astronomically since Shitty was sitting right behind the Falconer's bench.

Of course the young lawyer had already gotten rid of the major parts of his clothing, Jack didn't expect anything less, even though the arena was freezing. He couldn't understand a single word Shitty was sreaming at the top of his lungs, but his body language said everything anybody needed to know. And the jumbotron helped to spread the message just perfectly. When Shitty was sober again, he would be very pleased with the results of his efforts, and he might have no voice for a week, Jack was looking forward to that, at least a little bit. But at this moment, Shitty was riding Holster's shoulders, brandishing an enormous sign and yelling like a maniac with a red face. Jack couldn't help but feeling fond somehow, his friends were idiots, but great.

And where did he even get a huge ass sing from with Jack's butt on display framed with ridiculous ornaments? There were just a few times, Jack Zimmermann was glad when he could finally leave the ice, take his skates off and just go home. This was surely one of those times.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story, I try to improve my engländisch,  
> have fun though :)


End file.
